


(Un)Tamed

by The_Black_Cat



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Anya's perspective, Cheating, Dickhead!Anya, F/F, G!P, G!P!Anya, Gentle Sex, I'm sorry for the long descriptions, Unplanned Pregnancy, Whole lotta feels, alternative universe, lovemaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-16 21:50:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7285993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Black_Cat/pseuds/The_Black_Cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anya cheats on her pregnant girlfriend. Or does she?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Back In The Game

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!  
> So, this story was written in under eight hours, I still honestly don't know how, but, well... I don't even know how I got the idea to write a story like this one in the first place, I'm all against cheating in relationships and if you are, too, then you're going to hate Anya in this chapter.  
> Also, I'm not sure when I'm going to update, hopefully in under a week. Depends on if you guys like it.  
> Anyways, I don't have a beta and I'm not a native English speaker, so all mistakes are mine. If you don't mind them, enjoy.

The bar was filled with people, just like every Friday night. The music was mixing with the talks, laughter and tinging and thumbing of glasses against the wooden tables. The atmosphere was pleasant, so much so that people usually forgot about the time in the bar. And if they had enough alcohol, they wouldn’t remember it until the closing hour, spending more and more money and being more and more generous with the tips the more drinks they’ve had. And if you smiled all night or flashed some extra skin, no matter how innocent, the tips would go extra high.

That, however, was not something Anya did. No, she was good with mixing drinks, which she enjoyed most on this kind of job. The sultry smiles and some flirting didn’t hurt, either. She liked the whole package that came with being a bartender.

But for the last few weeks she wasn’t enjoying herself just as much.

Before, a year and a half ago, it was fun. She would do her job, hit on someone, get hit on by someone, take someone to the backroom here and there… She had loved it. She had craved it. She had been a player, a ‘wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am’ kind of woman.

That changed with one girl she met at the bar. Anya didn’t know why or how, but that girl ruined her for anyone else. They had slept together once and Anya thought nothing of it. Then came a second time, which Anya didn’t usually do, but hey, the girl was hot and she made the most amazing sounds when Anya’s head was between her legs, tasting, licking, curling her tongue in _that way…_

Then came the third time and Anya knew something was off. She never did third times. And that girl hadn’t even done anything that night, she had sat there, with her friends, drinking, having fun, her eyes occasionally venturing to look at Anya behind the bar… and before either knew it, it was Anya who was pulling the hot Hispanic beauty out of the bar, yelling at her coworker Luna that she needed the rest of the night off.

They had spent three days straight in Anya’s apartment, only eating, talking and screwing each other on every surface available. And since then, Anya didn’t have the slightest need to play anyone. She didn’t look through the crowd in the bar to find some one night stand to scratch the itch. She had everything she wanted in that woman, and more.

But ever since her girlfriend _(the word still tasted weird in her mouth, but it was the best kind of weird she had ever experienced)_ got into the fifth month of pregnancy _(Anya still couldn’t quite believe they were already five months in, and to say she had never wanted a child…)_ , their lives became a routine.

She couldn’t work at the garage anymore, her employer wouldn’t allow it, so the brunette stayed at home. Of course, she always found something to tinker with, to upgrade or improve. Anya’s apartment has never been so clean.

It was Anya herself who minded this routine. She was used to excitement, to rush of lust and adrenaline while fucking girl after girl in the backroom, hoping Indra wouldn’t catch her _(again)._ Now there was what usually comes with relationships – commitment. It took some of Anya’s will power to stick to that, and she has managed, never once thinking of another woman in bed. Why would she? She had this amazing girlfriend who could make her see stars and who was amazing for Netfix and cuddles evenings. Now, however, now it was only about getting up around one in the afternoon, eat the mediocre lunch her girlfriend made _(she wasn’t the best cook… well, she probably wasn’t a good cook either, since she did manage to destroy a few frying pans and pots until she learned how not to burn things on the stove)_ , do something useful like throw the garbage out, go to work, get home in the wee hours, eat some leftover mediocre dinner, take a quick shower and go to sleep, just to have the covers pulled from her as soon as she falls asleep. And repeat, each and every day.

And while to anyone it might seem like a nice life, to Anya it was boring. There were times when there was a fine stud with the air of mystery in the mirror looking back at her. Now there was this tall blonde who seemed lost in the life she now had. And Anya hated that _(she didn’t look into the mirror nowadays if she could help it)._

No, Anya needed more. She needed the rush, the thrill, the excitement again. She was a mustang, a wild stud who did anything she pleased, fucked anyone she wanted. Nobody could just tie her down and put a saddle on her back and a bridle in her mouth to keep her grounded, under control. And that’s exactly what her girlfriend did _(at least that’s how it felt to Anya)_! This was wrong. Anya wasn’t some animal that could cornered and captured! She didn’t want restraints, didn’t need commitment! She was perfectly happy living on take out _(which tasted better than the crap she has to eat now)_ , adrenalin and random sex! Not this… this… phantom of a life that only consisted of responsibilities, no fun and no sex!

The bottle she was currently holding in her hand almost slipped from her grasp.

She needed to get out. She needed to let the steam out, to get back into the game. She couldn’t do this anymore. Not like this. She wasn’t meant to be tamed. She wasn’t supposed to be a parent. How did it happen, anyway? She was always using protection _(okay, yes, there were those few times she didn’t, because her beauty of a girlfriend wanted to feel her bare inside, but even those times she had made sure to pull out)_ and her girlfriend was taking the pill, so how…

_“Stop taking the pill,” Anya says, slowly dragging the tip of her nose against the soft skin of her girlfriend’s neck. She feels the woman turn the top half of her body in her arms so that she could better look at the blonde._

_“What?! Are you crazy?! With how much sex we have I would be knocked up in no time!”_

_“Exactly. Just imagine the thrill of me fucking you bare, raw, until I’m cumming inside of your unprotected pussy,” Anya whispered into the graceful neck and gently bit the tanned skin, feeling the full-body shudder that went through the body in her arms, “and then the excitement that comes with the uncertainty of whether my swimmers did get to your egg or not… Just imagine me impregnating you…”_

_“Yeah, o-okay,” the young woman muttered as Anya took her earlobe in between her teeth, while her hands were roaming the tanned skin under the black t-shirt, “there is s-something to that idea…”_

Ah, so that’s how it happened. Was it really Anya’s idea?

Well, the thrill that came with the thoughts of whether she impregnated her girlfriend or not was quite amazing. And while she had never wanted to have kids, Anya had to admit that imagining the miniature versions of herself and her girlfriend running all around was a somewhat warming idea.

But that would only mean more people putting a saddle on her back wouldn’t it? That was exactly what Anya didn’t want. She was a wild beast, not a momma-bear. She couldn’t let that happen to her now, could she? If she wasn’t having any fun with her girlfriend now, how will she be able to get some when there will be kids around?

No, no… she shouldn’t have let it come to this. She shouldn’t have…

Maybe she could get her old life back. She could be the fine stud she once were before that Hispanic beauty took it from her. Yes, yes, she definitely could go back to fucking around, playing girls and women alike, or just scratching an itch both parties always seemed to have.

Yeah, that seemed like an excellent idea. She wouldn’t be a cornered animal. She wouldn’t be a domesticated horse to pull a carriage full of children. She wouldn’t have the saddle on her back. The only straddling that was going to happen from now on would be the one where the nameless, faceless girl would be the backwards cowgirl, impaling herself on Anya’s cock. 

She could do that. Go back to how things were. Get back in the game. Claim her reputation back.

She smirked. Oh, she could get it back. Just find a nice girl to do the do with, and she would be back where she was. Her life would again be about the thrill and excitement. Not this dull something where days seemed to be repeating themselves, the only difference being the size and roundness of the belly the girl she was sharing her flat was supporting.

Anya placed the bottle of vodka under the counter, handed a guy his drink and let her eyes scan the room, with her significant smirk on her face. She knew that smirk was a weak spot for so many young women. From experience she knew that whenever that smirk appeared, she would be getting laid in less than three hours.

She looked around the bar in the most casual was she could manage. She still knew the game, if she looks like she isn’t interested yet, it’s good, but if she overdoes it and makes herself look like she doesn’t care _(which was the case for the past few weeks)_ she’s done for.

Good thing she still knew her game.

Casual. Mysterious. Sexy. That’s what every woman loved. That’s what Anya could very easily be. She knew how. She had it in herself. She had practiced the art of seduction for far too long.

Another _(casual!)_ look around the bar, a fast swipe of her eyes as she bent down to make another drink, and she had the location of four women that were staring her down like a piece of meat. That’s what she wanted. That she knew how to deal with. That was exciting. Familiar. Good.

She acted like she didn’t notice them, though she was still smirking. She put on a show of preparing this drink, throwing bottles into the air, catching them before they were about to break on the desk of the bar, pouring the liquid into the glass without a drop falling anywhere else. As she moved, she flexed the muscles in her arms and torso, a practiced addition to the practiced movements. It was bound to get her audience drooling.

“Getting back on track, An?”

Anya heard Luna’s question, but only sent her a confident smirk in return. Her coworker understood, she had seen too many of Anya’s sexcapades to know when it was supposed to happen and when not to step a foot into the backroom.

“What about your girlfriend?”

“Don’t mention her, Luna,” Anya said warningly, eyeing her friend. Luna lifted her hands up in defeat and shook her head as if to say ‘I didn’t do anything’ and returned to making a drink of her own. She wasn’t putting on a show, though.

Anya placed the now done drink on the bar in front of the woman who ordered it. She got a sultry smile and a nice tip, but then the woman left with a dude that’s been talking to her whole night. Good for them, and for Anya, too, since she wouldn’t be taking this woman to the backroom. Her focus, though quite obscure, was on the four women that seemed to be interested.

One of them was with her friends, and while she was eyeing the bartender with a hungry look, she didn’t seem to be interested enough to actually get off her ass to have a little chat. The second one was sitting in the back of the room, legs crossed high, so that her dress was showing a bit too much, eyeing Anya with a dirty look while sipping at the red wine in the glass. She seemed content with just looking though. The third was just walking to the ladies’ room with another young woman. As if feeling Anya’s stare on her, she turned her head and threw the bartender an apologetic look.

The fourth one, however… she was just making her way over the crowd to the bar.

Anya smirked. Bingo.

Soon enough, the woman was sitting on a barstool that happened to be empty, pretty close to Anya, so the bartender had a chance to look her over. She was busty, and there was no doubt in Anya’s mind that the woman also had an ass to match those breasts. She was basically spilling from the wine red dress she had on. She was here to fuck.

Perfect.

Looking higher, Anya saw that the woman also had a pretty face. Full checks and lips, somewhat sharp contour of nose, perfectly done eyebrows above greenish-gray eyes with perfectly done makeup. Her black hair was falling around her face in perfectly done luxurious waves that made it seem more than bulky.

While she wasn’t the best Anya has seen, she was pretty fuckable, and that was all the bartender cared for in that moment.

“Hey,” the woman spoke in a deep, smoky voice. Was she smoking? She probably was smoking…

“Hey,” Anya answered with a small, arrogant, cocky smirk that had never failed to get a girl’s panties all wet and ruined. “What can I make you?”

“Many things.”

“Oh? For example?”

“Wet.”

The smirk on Anya’s lips widened. She liked where this was heading. “How do you know that?”

“You already did,” the woman smirked and threw Anya a scorching look from under her eyelashes. Won’t take much long now.

“Glad I could be of service.”

“Not yet, sexy, but you can be, if you could take me somewhere more… private.”

Swing and score!

“Luna?” Anya called after her friend.

“Yeah, go ahead, I can take care of this!” came a reply and Anya couldn’t be happier. Well, she could, and she will be, in just a few minutes.

Anya threw the black haired woman a liquid-sex look, then mentioned with her head towards the door to the backroom. “Private enough?”

“Of course, baby,” the woman smiled a poor attempt at an innocent smile and Anya had to bite the inside of her cheek so that she wouldn’t yell at her for the nickname. She hated nicknames. “By the way, I’m Luc.”

“I don’t do names,” Anya said back, leading the woman around the bar then into the back room. There were boxes of alcoholic and nonalcoholic beverages, snacks, everything a bar needed. But there was also one part of a wall that wasn’t occupied by anything. Exactly what Anya needed.

 “And what do you do?”

“One night stands,” answered Anya instantly.

The woman pressed her against the wall. “Perfect.”


	2. What It Takes (not) To Be A Cheater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will she? Will she not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are mine and I apologize for them, just like for the long descriptions. Hopefully it won't be too much of a pain.

They were close. Anya could feel the heat of the body almost pressed against hers. She could see the flush on the woman’s cheeks, the way her eyes were unfocused and half lidded. She could feel the hot breath hitting her chin, since the woman was shorter than her. And even though nothing has happened yet, she could swear the scent of the woman’s arousal was in the air.

And this was what Anya wanted. She wanted to have this woman in all the positions she couldn’t have her girlfriend in. Face pressed against the wall, back bent, legs spread, as she would fuck her senseless, until she’d spill inside of a condom. On all fours as Anya would mount her and plunge her cock deep into the awaiting pussy. Hands held behind the back, chest out, Anya’s dick deep inside of her. All the things she haven’t done for so long because of her girlfriend’s bad leg…

She wanted it all. She wanted this feeling of somebody desiring her so strongly, lusting after her body. She craved the sexual satisfaction that came without actual strings of attachment or commitment. She desired this lust she was feeling from the woman in front of her.

She wanted this.

She needed this.

It was all she ever knew. All she ever cared for. Lust, no love. Desire for bodily pleasure, not emotional one. That was her world. It was what she needed, what she lived on. Fun, alcohol, cheap fuck, sleep and then repeat. That was it. It was hers. Her life. Her freedom. It didn’t mean any saddle on her back, any bridle she needed to follow, any whip that would punish her if she did something wrong. There wasn’t anything to fuck up. Anything to do wrong. Just fuck, cum, never speak to that person again. It has always worked.

It was _hers_.

So why… why was it suddenly feeling so wrong?

Back in the day, she would have this woman pressed against the wall. Back in the day, she would have the woman’s dress undone by now and her neck would be covered in kisses. Back in the day, she would be knuckle deep in this woman by now.

So why, oh why did she just stand there? Why didn’t she take control, like she always had? Why didn’t she smash this woman against the wall and fuck her like a bitch in heat? And why, why, why wasn’t her cock fully erect and ready for the rodeo, even with all those filthy thoughts in her head?

The woman smirked, took Anya’s hands in hers and pressed them against the wall. Her still covered breasts were now touching the bartender’s chest and Anya couldn’t help the weird feeling overcoming her. She felt like a claustrophobe in a small elevator; like this woman would fall on her and suffocate her with those breasts. 

The hands that were holding Anya’s wrists and pressing them into the wall suddenly seemed too hot, or too cold, the dirty blonde couldn’t tell, but she knew they were burning on her skin with how out of place they felt there. And those nails _(claws, really, no doubt artificial, with at least twenty layers of gel on them, so that they wouldn’t break)_ were digging into her skin in a way that made the slight pain uncomfortable.

She wanted to break away. No, she needed to break away. This was wrong. No matter how much she has tried to tell herself that she wanted this just seconds ago, now she felt downright nauseous with how wrong this felt.

Was it supposed to be like this? Was the first time randomly hooking up after a long period of time supposed to leave this weird aftertaste in her mouth and a sickening feeling in her stomach? She couldn’t tell. She didn’t remember how it was supposed to feel. She had been too wasted to know how it had felt. Maybe that was what she did wrong this time? She didn’t get wasted, so maybe that’s why this felt so horrible. If she had some alcohol in her system…

As the woman tried to lean in to plant a kiss on Anya’s lips, she suddenly knew how this would end had she drunk something tonight – the wine red dress the woman was wearing would be forced to meet with Anya’s breakfast from three weeks ago, that’s how much she would puke.

 As she watched the woman lean in _(was it always this slow or did she just go crazy in the head?)_ , she couldn’t help but notice the shape and color of her lips. They were pouty and full and the upper lip was fuller than the lower one and they were bloody red and had perfectly applied lipstick and looked somewhat soft and were entirely too wrong. Because the lips Anya wanted were different. The lips Anya wanted to see, to taste, to kiss until her last breath were thinner, the lower lip was more plump than the upper one, they had soft pink color, with no lipstick that would spoil their taste, and were much, much, much softer than the ones that were now heading her way.

She also noticed the full cheeks and flat cheekbones the woman had. They were pretty and quite sensual and Anya was sure that if she caressed them with her fingernails, there would be deep marks left in the makeup. Again, they were completely wrong. The cheekbones Anya wanted to see were slightly sharper and much cuter. And the cheeks that she wanted to cup in her hands were not as full, instead they were firm, smooth like satin.

The jawline and nose were also out of place. Sharp and high cut, they made the woman look like some sort of predator. But the jaws Anya wanted to trace her lips down were much smoother, somewhat more precisely cut, yet gentler. And the nose she wanted to kiss when a tickling match was over, no matter the outcome, was smaller and much cuter.

The hair that was now tickling her collarbones, black and wavy, like dark clouds in an even darker night, seemed yet again entirely too wrong. Anya wanted the brown, thick locks that started off dark near the skin on the head, but then turned into chestnut with only the slightest breath of fire and felt like the softest silk against her fingers when she pulled at them just before reaching her climax.

The body that radiated heat against her own, a heat that went completely ignored seeing as Anya felt cold as ever, felt foreign and weirdly angering. It was curvy and soft to the point it could probably be called marshmallow. It wasn’t big, per se, just… the breasts and the hips and the ass… It left the bartender worried that if this woman really fell on her, she would either suffocate her or squash her like a cockroach. She wanted a different body pressed against her. Soft but fit, lithe, somehow muscular though not as much as Anya’s own. The body she wanted to run her hands all over was firm, the skin tanned and smooth, and oh so delicious. The breasts she wanted to tease were smaller, perky and amazingly responsive. The legs she wanted to lift up to wrap around her own waist were strong and so sexy, the butt she wanted to hold in her hands was firm and shaped in a way even Aphrodite and Venus and very other goddes would turn green with envy.  The neck she wanted to kiss was elegant and lean. The hands she wanted to hold were smaller, soft, yet strong and precise. And the tummy she wanted to caress was firm and fit, though now slightly swollen with a little bump that was growing inside.

The scent around them, the suffocating aroma of arousal, sandal wood and something that made Anya wish she could stop breathing, was yet again wrong. Anya wanted the fresh, flowery scent of lavender and vanilla and pomegranate that now occupied the air in her apartment.

And the eyes that were staring her down… the grayish-green eyes that were boring into her, somewhat shallow, like a lake with bottom too close to the surface, were probably the worst about this woman. Because the eyes Anya wanted to stare into without stopping, the eyes she wanted to have on herself and to hold forever, to stare into until she drowned in them, those eyes were brown. Like the sweetest milk chocolate ever made. Like freshly cut mahogany wood. Like the coffee seeds freshly taken out of oven, still warm and so welcoming. She wanted the eyes that were looking into hers as she first realized what the feeling of love truly was.

So when the woman came too close, Anya turned her head and jerked away, so that no part of her would touch those unwelcome lips. That seemed to surprise Anya’s companion, which gave the bartender the chance to push back and break free from the hold.

Finally, that claustrophobic feeling was gone and the burning on her wrist just a faint memory that didn’t leave any physical evidence. Suddenly, Anya felt like she could breathe again. So she did, gulping in big breaths as fast as she could, not caring about her companion, who was now leaning against the wall.

“What, too hot for you?” the woman asked, tweaking a strand of hair in between her fingers in what probably wanted to be a sexy gesture. Anya didn’t answer, just looked the woman down with a stare that she wouldn’t be able to control even if she cared to.  “Or are you finally going to take control?”

Anya looked down, still breathing hard. She probably could take control. Her younger self definitely would. But her younger self would only be killing her own sanity. And Anya didn’t want that. Now she finally understood. She saw why things with her girlfriend were the way they were, and why she was feeling the way she was.

Honestly, if having someone put a saddle on her back and a bridle into her mouth for her to follow each and every tug on it meant having what she had at home, waiting for her, she would gladly give this stupid hook-up shit up without a second thought. She would become a tamed horse for someone to ride, to yoke and make pull a carriage full of kids. It was million times better than this empty, sickening joke of a life she had lived before.

“What happened with you, Anya Woods? I’ve heard you’re the best fuck a woman could want. Yet, there isn’t any fucking here…”

“And there won’t be,” the bartender almost growled, cutting the woman off. 

“Oh, c’mon, you can’t just leave me high and dry… or, well, not so dry…”

“I can. And I will.”

“Why would you? You’re all about one night stands, aren’t you?”

“Not anymore… I can’t…”

“At least give me an explanation why I won’t have the fuck I’ve been looking forward to whole week,” the woman said, crossing her hands over her chest. There was a frown on her face and her lips were pulled into a pout that reminded Anya of a spoiled child that didn’t get their way.

“I have an amazing woman waiting for me at home. Can’t fuck it up by shagging someone… I thought I could, but…” a loud sigh followed Anya’s words as she remembered those brown eyes, staring into her own with joy and excitement at so many occasions. Then she remembered all those sassy, smartass comments they usually exchanged… how much care was behind every single one of them… “I just can’t… thanks for showing me that.”

She didn’t even wait for the woman to respond, she just opened the door and rushed out. The music of the bar, the dim lights and the smell of cigarettes hit her all at once and made her stop for only a short second. But it was enough for Luna to notice her.

“Already out? You weren’t there for two minutes. Were you that fast?”

“No, I… I couldn’t,” Anya answered, not meeting her friend’s eye. A feeling of guilt and shame for thinking that she really wanted her old life back, when she had an amazing life right in front of her washed over her and she couldn’t do anything about the searing need to stick her head into sand and beg for forgiveness.

Instead, she took her leather jacket from behind the bar and started walking to the exit for staff.

“You haven’t finished your shift!” Luna called after her. They both knew nobody would stop Anya, even if they dared.

“I have to go home to my very much pregnant girlfriend!” the blonde called out before opening the door and walking through. Just before she closed it behind herself, she could hear Luna yelling a “Finally!” after her, and she could only chuckle at that. Damn, even her coworker realized what she had before she herself did.

The ride home was fast _(and if somebody asked her if she broke some traffic laws, she would definitely say no, even though…)._ She basically ran up the stairs after parking her bike in her garage, taking three at once, while fishing out her keys with one hand and holding her helmet in the other. As quietly as she could, in order to not wake up her sleeping girlfriend, she opened the door and slipped inside. In a haste, she took off her boots, hung up her jacket, helmet and keys and went straight to the bedroom. She could eat later.

Opening the door to the bedroom, she almost shed a tear at the site in front of her. Her girlfriend, her beautiful, sassy girlfriend was lying in their bed, on her side, curled around Anya’s pillow. The sheet was only draped around her waist and legs, so that her upper body was covered only by Anya’s old hockey jersey. The chestnut hair was spread on the pillow all around the young woman, glistening in the light of the street lamps coming through the window.

Anya couldn’t help the smile that took over her face at the happy, warm feeling in her chest. She quietly walked to her sleeping girlfriend, feasting upon her beauty. When she was finally standing at the bed, she knelt down and gently touched the girl’s cheek with the tips of her fingers. Smooth, warm, perfect. Anya’s hand then traveled to the small bump that was visible on her lover’s belly. She smiled even wider, cupping the bump in her hand. She pressed a gentle kiss to it, as best as she could, seeing there was little to no space.

But as soon as her lips touched the soft skin of her girlfriend’s belly, the feeling of guilt rushed right back, pushing the happiness she felt out of her chest, making her feel heavy, like she was made out of iron and lead, not flesh and bones.

Anya Woods doesn’t cry. No, she doesn’t. She never cries. Not once.

But in that moment, when she felt the weight of everything that happened for the past few weeks hit her like a ton of bricks on a Japanese super-fast train, she couldn’t help but cry. The tears stinging her in the eyes, running down her cheeks until they fell on the bed, as she silently wept for all her mistakes, still cupping the bump in her hand.

“I’m so s-sorry…” she whispered, unable to stop the words from flowing out, “I didn’t know… I didn’t know what I had… I almost-almost cheated… I almost gave up on you… but I didn’t, I swear to God, I didn’t… I couldn’t… I thought I could, but I couldn’t… I kept seeing you and I… I understood… I don’t-don’t want to be anyone’s, never h-have, never will… anyone’s but yours, Raven… just yours – only yours… forever… and I will give you the earth and the sky if you ask for it, I will put m-myself at your feet, I will give myself to you c-completely… I will become whatever you want me to be… hell, I will even take the w-wedding band if you want me to… just to show you how-how much I l-love you, Raven Reyes…”

And Anya Woods, the Anya Woods who used to be a player, a one-night-stand lover, and never cried, this time cried herself to sleep at the feet of one Raven Reyes, without the knowledge, that her girlfriend woke up the moment she heard Anya’s motorcycle outside, just like she did every night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, guys! No cheating, because I hate it when that happens in a relationship. And I seriously want to thank you for all your cudos and coments, they really made my day.  
> Now we'll just have to wait and see how Raven reacts. What do you think? Will she go mad and start throwing things or will she have a better hold on her temper?  
> I'll hopefully update within the next week.  
> Have a nice day and I hope you'll leave your thoughts in the comments for me to read!


	3. Mad As Expected (Or Not)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven's mad. Or is she?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the mistakes, guys (again).

Anya woke up to the smell of fried eggs and coffee. She was fully in the bed, half of her face burrowed in Raven’s pillow, only clad in a sports bra and boxers. She felt tired and sore. Her head ached as if she came home drunk last night. But she was sure she didn’t. She hadn’t drank for almost six months. Ever since Raven told her she was pregnant…

Somehow, the dirty blonde managed to get up from the bed that seemed way too comfortable, and dragged herself through the hall into the kitchen. There she was greeted with one of the most beautiful sites she had ever seen – her girlfriend, in nothing but Anya’s old hockey jersey, standing on her tiptoes, trying to reach something in the cupboard, but didn’t seem to have enough luck. Anya couldn’t help but smile. The whole scene, complete with the freshly brewed coffee and the sizzling of an omelet on a frying pan, tugged at her heart in the most amazing of ways.

And to think she almost screwed up and lost it all…

She shook her head at her own stupidity, then stepped into the kitchen to help her girlfriend retrieve whatever it was that she was searching for.

“Morning,” Anya grumbled just before leaning against the other woman and reaching her hand into the cupboard, “What did you lose in there?”

“My wedding band,” the shorter woman fired back with sarcasm clear as the day in her voice. She then turned around to face Anya and hopped onto the kitchen counter. “I just wanted a glass for orange juice. One of those high ones.”

Anya only hummed and took requested glass out of the cupboard before placing in onto the counter. The warmth of the bed on her body contrasted with the air around her and the coldness of the counter desk under her hands, but she didn’t dare to place her hands onto her lover’s hips. She didn’t deserve that after what she almost did.

“You’re up early,” Raven commented, cocking her head to the side, exposing her neck. Suddenly, Anya wanted very much to kiss, bite and mark that elegant neck. And it was so close to her… if she just leaned in a few inches closer…

She bit her lip and balled her palms into fists. No. She shouldn’t. Instead, she asked: “Really? What time is it?”

“Barely half past seven,” the brunette answered, running her eyes all over her lover’s face. Anya could feel it like a warm caress, on her cheekbones, on her nose, on her jaws, on her lips… The bartender gulped down the sudden wetness in her mouth at the feeling.

“That’s…” she stopped herself unsure of what to say. Raven was so close. Her scent enveloping both of them, her warmth affecting Anya in so many ways… _(And of course, Anya’s little soldier just had to salute upon seeing its lady! Little traitor… no, not little. Definitely not little. But still a traitor.)_ “I should probably get back to bed, wouldn’ wanna fall asleep workin’.”

“About that,” Raven started, placing her hands _(warm, soft, amazing hands)_ on Anya’s own to stop her from moving away _(no long fingernails, no burning feeling, just the delight of Raven’s touch upon her skin)_ , “Luna called…”

“When?” Anya cut her girlfriend off, getting a stern gaze, that seemed entirely too fake on the brunette’s beautiful face.

“1994,” came the sarcastic answer.

“Raven…”

“This morning, obviously. Somewhere around five. Woke me up – hey, stop it! No growling at your friends,” this time, a finger pointing straight at Anya’s nose came into the blonde’s view and that’s when she realized she was, in fact, growling _(could you blame her? Someone woke her very pregnant girlfriend up at an ungodly hour of the morning! When she sees Luna again…)_. On an instinct, she leaned in and ever so gently took the finger that was supposed to be offending between her teeth, staring her girlfriend in the eyes. It brought a smile on those perfect lips and Anya suddenly wanted nothing more than to kiss them for eternity.

The guilt came crushing into her again, and she quickly released the finger and leaned back. How could she kiss this amazing woman, when just a few hours ago, she was going to cheat on her? She just couldn’t, that’s how. She didn’t deserve it.

“You’re free for today and tomorrow. Also said something about you having time to make something up to me, which I didn’t quite understand…” the brunette trailed off. Then she looked back at her girlfriend and a frown appeared on her face. “Are you listening or you’re good in your la-la-land?”

“Of course I’m listening.”

How could she not? She would listen to this amazing raspy, breathy voice until the day she died if she could. She’d go to Hell and back if she had to, just to be able to listen to that voice.

“Good, so…” the brunette cut herself short, sniffing at the air. With a silent yell of “the eggs!” she pushed Anya back and climbed down from the counter. The blonde noticed how Raven tried not to put too much of her weight on her bad leg, limping towards the stove to save the omelet on the pan. Anya almost wanted to pick her up and carry her to bed, then finish the breakfast herself, just so that her girlfriend wouldn’t strain herself too much. But, of course, Raven would never allow that. She was strong and proud. She could deal with this on her own _(that’s what she said, anyways)_.

Watching Raven prepare breakfast brought old memories back for the blonde. Memories of the times when they got up together, Anya would try to teach Raven how to cook simple things, but they would end up fucking on the counter like horny rabbits instead, and after that they would eat cold breakfast and talk about anything and everything.

She missed those mornings. She missed spending time with her girlfriend.

A lump formed in Anya’s throat and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. It was all her fault, wasn’t it? She had it all, a job she loved, an apartment that wasn’t half bad, a girlfriend she took ages to realize she loved ever since that third time… And yet, when she learned they would be having a baby, Anya chose to hide in her job, using the excuse of needing more money for the little one, instead of being here and showing them both, Raven and the baby, how much love she held for them. It was ridiculous, now that she thought about it. Only a coward does that. Only a stupid ass idiot would ever leave their girlfriend and kid like that because they were scared.

How come Anya haven’t thought about this the whole time? How could she just forget that it was her who made her own life dull and miserable by not spending enough time with the woman of her life? _(Smooth, Sunshine, smooth!)_  

“Didn’t know you’d raise from the dead this early,” Raven’s voice cut through the thoughts in the dirty blonde’s mind like a hot knife would through a lump of butter, “I’ll fix you something to eat and in the meantime, you go and take a shower.”

Anya took a few steps in the direction of the door, automatically doing as her girlfriend requested, but she abruptly stopped herself and turned towards the young woman who was now poking the omelet with a fork, as if testing if it were edible now. If Anya were honest with herself, Raven cooking and only clad in that jersey, that was a few sizes way too big for her and ended on her mid-thighs, which made it look quite attention stealing, was the most adorable thing she had ever seen _(she knew better than to say that to Raven if she wanted to keep little Anya where she belonged)_.

“Are you saying I stink?”

“Err, nope,” came a cute answer with the cute ‘p’ popped in the word, completed with the cutest expression that was a perfect example of a guilty innocence, “I’m just saying you spent the night in a bar with the smell of alcohol, cigarette smoke and people who stink. And you haven’t showered before you went to bed, so,” while saying this, Raven moved to her girlfriend, pressed her body against the other woman’s and wrapped her hands around the neck in front of her, then she placed a soft, chaste kiss on Anya’s lips, “You go an take a shower, I’ll make you something to eat.”

“Thank you,” Anya smiled, brushing her nose against the younger woman’s affectionately. Raven then released her from the loose embrace and she went straight to the bathroom, feelings of happiness and guilt fighting what seemed to be an endless war in her chest.

She was stupid to think that there could be any other woman than Raven. She was stupid to think that she had a miserable life. And she was completely out of her mind to ever consider leaving this for one night stands and empty apartment.

This is what she wanted. Love, no lust. Emotional satisfaction above the physical one. It was her world now. These gentle moments, brief touches and chaste kisses that showed affection, that was what she needed in her life. The feeling of wholeness that Raven seemed to so effortlessly place into Anya’s chest. Even if it meant that Raven herself was the one to put a saddle on Anya’s back and a bridle into her mouth for Anya to follow even the smallest tug _(suddenly it didn’t seem too difficult, seeing as she was already doing that)._

She wanted this.

She needed this.

She craved this.

And yet, she chose to work her ass off instead of being here, where she had everything she wanted. It was stupid of her. With how much they both had in savings, they wouldn’t need to work for at least three years, and still be able to afford anything their child could need and want.

But that was it, wasn’t it? The child. And the feeling of fear it brought into Anya. That’s why she chose to work more hours than would be considered healthy _(Clarke did serve Anya her ass to her on more than one occasion because of this, each time strongly supported by her wife and Anya’s sister, Lexa)_.

Now that she stood under the stream of hot shower that did little to lose the tight knots in her muscles and the ache her whole body now bombarded her with, she understood why she spent so much time at work and so little time here with Raven.

She was afraid.

Anya and Lexa were foster kids. They never knew their parents, never really had ones for more than a year. That’s life in the system, you never really find home unless you make one for yourself. Life is tough, unforgiving and you have to fight for anything and everything you need. The weak ones die without a family.

So yes, Anya was terrified that she wouldn’t be a good parent. That she wouldn’t know how to be a parent at all.

But then again, this was her life. She had it with her Raven, and she would soon have their child here, too. That’s what Lexa described as home when they were having deep conversations late at night while drinking beer. So maybe, just maybe, if Anya got her shit together, she could make it her home, too. With Raven at her side, rising their kids as best as they could.

Yeah, that’s it. Kids. Not one kid. But more. They could do it.

They _could_ do it.

Together.

Stepping out of the shower with a decision made in her head, Anya quickly dried herself off ( _wouldn’t wanna let some drops fall down on the nicely cleaned floor)_ , quickly grabbed fresh boxers and sports bra and went to the kitchen while putting them on.

Just as she walked in, Raven turned another omelet on the pan. The brunette smiled and walked over to Anya, a slight limp in her step, to wrap her arms around the bartender’s neck and press herself against her body.

“Hmm, I love the way you smell freshly out of shower,” the mechanic muttered into her girlfriend’s collarbone.

“I’m sorry I didn’t give you enough opportunities to smell it more often,” Anya said quietly, wrapping her hands loosely around the younger woman, which gained her a nuzzle against her upper chest and a soft huff. That was another thing Anya missed like crazy, these affectionate touches and behavior that convinced her there was far more than just a bit of cattish nature in Raven.

“Not once in three weeks. I should be offended.”

“Yeah, you should.”

That made Raven lean back slightly to look her girlfriend up with a frown on her own face. “What’s with you, agreeing with me all of the sudden?”

“Can’t I agree with my nerd of a girlfriend?”

“It’s your duty to agree with your girlfriend,” Raven smiled, poking the older woman in the chest with her forefinger, “But you never do it without sarcastic remarks or comments.”

“Yeah, don’t get used to it, Reyes.”

“There’s the Anya I know and love.”

“Of cour-… you – you love me?” it came out surprised and almost disbelieving. Just like Anya was feeling. She hadn’t heard correctly, surely her mind is just playing tricks on her. Raven wouldn’t love her, not after what she’s put the poor girl through. No, that couldn’t be…

“Anya, I’m basically living in your apartment, making you meals every day, cleaning up your stuff, carrying your child. Of course I love you, you big dork!”

“I’m not a dork,” Anya couldn’t help but pout in her girlfriend’s hands, “I’m a badass.”

“Nope, you are a total dork,” Raven chuckled, her lips curled upwards in a smile so bright the sun could go hide in shame, “You’re my dork.”

Anya couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. A warmth spread in her chest, a one that she couldn’t name, but was more than happy to accept wholeheartedly. She was happy. With Raven in her hands, she was truly happy. “I think I can live with that.”

“Good,” with the word came a soft peck on Anya’s lips, “Now, sit down and let me finish making your breakfast.”

Anya could swear she felt a weak slap on her ass before Raven pulled herself back. She shook her head with a smile on her lips, then went about preparing the table for them, so that her girlfriend could rest her leg. Yeah, she could definitely do this.

But first.

“I have to tell you something,” Anya announced as they were both halfway through their omelets. She put her cutlery down and watched as Raven slowly put another piece in her mouth before doing the same. There was silence for a few short moments, both women’s attention solemnly at each other. “I almost cheated on you yesterday.”

The confession was met with silence. Raven only wrapped her elegant fingers around the glass of orange juice, brought it to her lips and took a sip, her eyes fixed on Anya’s, as if she were waiting for the dirty blonde to continue.

And so Anya did. She told her everything that happened last night _(or, well, this morning)_ , how she misunderstood the whole situation, how she almost fucked that woman and how she couldn’t do it and why. And Raven listened in silence, her face serious, not one witty, sarcastic comment made its way out of her mouth _(Anya couldn’t be more thankful for that)._

“…and I know it was my fault that I felt that way. I neglected you, neglected us, and it took its toll on me, too. With the baby on the way, I thought I – no, I justified my running away from here in my head by convincing myself that I was going to work to earn more money to support you both. But I’m so scared, Raven. I… what if I’m not a good mom to our kid? What if I won’t know how to act around them? I just, I don’t think I can-…”

“Hey! Anya, listen to me,” Raven cut the rant that Anya went into off, just as the dirty blonde started panicking, “This is new to me, too. My mom wasn’t the best, I don’t know how to be a mother either. And I would tell you not to worry, that you’ll be a great mom and that there will be no problems, but that’s bullshit. I’m not gonna lie to you, we are going to screw up. But the little guy’s going to screw up, too. That’s what families do. They screw up, they correct their mistakes, they learn from them. They are here for each other. And as long as you’re here for the baby, for me, we’re both going to love you. As long as you don’t run away, you’ll always have us.”

Anya could feel the stinging and watering in her eyes. She didn’t want the tears to fall. But as Raven stood up and walked over to her to embrace her, as the words “I forgive you” left the mechanic’s mouth and “I love you” ‘s were exchanged, Anya couldn’t hold the tears at bay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, she's not as mad as you'd expect. I'm not sure if that would be true to her character, though. I mean, It's Raven, so she'd obviously try and castrate Anya for something like that. But then again, she had half of the night to think about it, right? Seems like I'm far more confused now than Raven is in the story :D   
> Anyways, there'll be one more chapter, hopefully posted sometime within the next week.   
> Have an amazing time until then!


	4. Love, Oh, Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya is happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the lovin', guys! Though probably not very well written, it's here. And hopefully some humor, too.

Anya was happy. There wasn’t any other word for it. She was just happy. And of course, she still felt guilty as hell, but the happiness overweighed that feeling. It was the warmth in her chest, the content of just being and feeling, the scent of lavender and vanilla and pomegranate faintly floating in the air. It was the warmth that filled not only her, but the whole apartment. It was the feeling of someone being there, with her, for her.

It was happiness in many of its forms.

It was only a few hours after their talk in the kitchen and Anya almost wanted to send a fruit basked to Luna for taking two of her shifts. Chilling on their couch with Netfix, coffee and Raven at her side was an amazing feeling. Softly rubbing moistening cream into the skin of Raven’s belly while talking to the baby lump in there left the biggest smile on Anya’s face and she decided then and there she would do that whenever she’d have the chance. And helping Raven prepare lunch _(in the three weeks since Wick told her not to come back to the garage until their kid was at least two years old Raven took cooking courses!)_ was a relaxing experience filled with stealing kisses whenever she could and throwing whatever ingredient was the closest at each other.

And now, as Anya lay in her bed, in _their_ bed, with Raven tucked against her side, their hands holding at each other, the dirty blonde knew there was nowhere she’d rather be. Sure, she was a foster kid and didn’t know how a mom should act. But she knew how she wished her mom would’ve been, and that seemed enough, for now. With Raven, they’ll figure it out. If Lexa and Clarke had, the two of them will, too.

Gently letting go of the hand that she was holding for the past half an hour, she began playing with the elegant, strong fingers, twirling them in between her own, tickling the soft skin on their tips. It was a habit Anya acquired in the first days of their relationship. She did it when she was feeling comfortable, but seeking somewhat more closeness and intimacy. It was a peaceful gesture that Raven enjoyed immediately and got used to pretty quickly.

“Can I ask you something?” Raven voiced suddenly, her raspy voice low and pleasant for her girlfriend’s ears. It made Anya sad she couldn’t purr like cats could, because now she really wanted to do nothing but that.

“You just did.”

“Don’t get sassy with me, that’s my job.”

“It’s your job to get sassy with yourself?” Anya smirked. It was followed by her laughter when she felt the soft impact of a fist onto her shoulder _(though it wasn’t too soft, Anya called it that, because she knew Raven had a mean right hook)_. She then took the hand that hit her into her own and rolled them over, so that she was on top of her girlfriend, knees at her hips, hands now held above her head. “Ask away.”

“When you…” the brunette fell silent when she felt her girlfriend’s nose run up the elegant column of her neck. She swallowed, balling her hands into fists. Anya stopped her movements, to see if the girl wanted to get away from under her, but when she only felt the shiver that overtook the tanned body she was now straddling, she knew her attention was wanted and appreciated. “When you looked at that woman, what did you wanna do to her?”

Anya froze. Her body seemed to lose the capability of feeling and went into the autopilot mode, because her mind was suddenly unable to work. She didn’t really know how, but she rose from her position and went to sit onto the edge of the bed, as far from Raven as possible.

The happiness was gone. Only guilt, sadness and anger at herself remained. She didn’t want to think of it. It was a mistake on her part to ever consider doing it, a mistake she would never do again, but also a one she didn’t want to be reminded of. She had everything she needed and wanted right here! So why did Raven have to ask about that? Why did she want to? It wasn’t important!

“I didn’t do anything and I never will, with her or anyone else that is not you. So what does it matter?” there was cold edge in Anya’s voice. She didn’t want it there, but she wasn’t in charge of herself right now. To her, it seemed like she was someone else entirely.

“I matters,” Raven said with determination. Anya could feel the bed shift and dip as her girlfriend slowly crawled over to her. She then felt a body press itself against her back and a pair of arms wrapping themselves around her torso. A chin was placed on the dirty blonde’s shoulder and a cheek nuzzled against the side of her neck. “It matters to me. I’ve had a long time to think about cheating after Finn did it – stop growling! – and I realized that I wasn’t giving him something he wanted when he had to go find it with someone else. Now, you’ve thought of it too, so I want to know what I’m not giving you that you want. What were you thinking of doing to that woman?”

There was a tense moment of silence while there was what felt like World War III happening in Anya’s chest. Her emotions were all over the place and she didn’t know how to stop them, how to sort this mess out.    

“I thought of bending her against the wall and fucking her from behind. And fucking her doggie style. And… her riding me.” It was out of Anya’s mouth before she could do something to stop it. She felt the body behind her tense and suddenly, the chaos inside of her stopped. Only Raven existed. Raven and Anya’s need to explain herself. “After that accident… Your leg is not strong enough to support you during that kind of activity. I know you’ve been going to rehabs and whatnot, and it’s helping, I know it is. But I see the way you limp, Raven. You try hide it from me, but I still see it. I can’t just bend you over against the wall and fuck the living shit out of you like I used to, no matter how much I want to. And with how distant I have been these past weeks… I was angry, because I thought it was your fault. No, I convinced myself it was your fault that I have been basically living in that bar and that I haven’t been getting any. So I… I don’t know, I thought if I returned to how things were before us, that maybe I would… I don’t even know…”

“What if we tried it? To see if I can stand being fucked against the wall… I missed it, too,” Raven suggested, her voice raspy, yet so much honey like in Anya’s ear.

“It’s only been ten months since the accident, Rae, you’re in no state to take that kind of fucking.”

“Don’t be like that, baby,” the brunette pouted, “I could see your cock twitch when I said I wanted to be fucked like that. I bet it would love to be pushed into me after three long weeks, from behind…”

Suddenly, Anya was facing Raven with her kneed on the bed, which made her taller than the other woman. It was an empowering feeling to be towering over her like that. Raven had to tilt her face backwards and expose her neck to be able to look into Anya’s eyes. And the fact that the act was in its nature submissive made Anya’s mouth water and her blood rush south even more than before.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“It’s too much fun,” the brunette smirked. She slowly moved her legs, the good one faster than the other, so that they went around Anya’s knees. The dirty blonde was now kneeling in between Raven’s legs and if she told you in that moment she didn’t like it, it would be a big, fat lie _(coz, let’s face it, Raven is super-hot and Anya was sure nobody would ever complain if they were in her position. But honestly, she wanted to kill anybody who even thought of being in this position with her girlfriend)_. “Just imagine how good it would feel, your big, long cock splitting me open, making me cry out and moan your name… oh, Anya…”

“Shit,” the dirty blonde cursed under her breath as she watched her girlfriend put on an amazing show of moaning and sighing, her chest heaving as if she was already halfway to her orgasm. “Raven, we can’t…”

“But I want you,” the mechanic whispered, cutting her girlfriend off. She then reached her hands up towards Anya and curling her fingers in an invitation. And, as the good, tamed girlfriend Anya was, she obeyed the silent command without a thought. Their lips met in a soft, sweet kiss that ended almost as soon as it started, but it did manage to make the bartender aroused beyond belief. “I have an idea, baby.”

“What kind of idea?” Anya asked, although she had a pretty good image of that that _idea_ could be _(it mostly consisted of her cock buried balls deep in her girlfriend, Anya wasn’t in the right state of mind to think of details)_.

Instead of answering, Raven tugged at Anya’s hands, pulling her atop herself, then rolled over, so that she was straddling Anya’s waist. Just as the dirty blonde was about to protest against this position _(even in this state of mind, she was aware of her lover’s bad leg)_ , Raven sat down in Anya’s lap and straightened her legs at her lover’s sides. Then she took Anya’s hands in hers, interlacing their fingers and tugging up.

“Come up here,” the brunette half whispered. Anya, once again, followed the request without hesitation. Instinctively she crossed her legs behind Raven, so that her calves were touching Raven’s ass. The brunette did the same, with only her good leg, though, so that it was hooked behind Anya’s back, pressing their bodies together.

“I won’t be able to ride you like I used to…” Raven breathed, the hot air hitting Anya’s lips and sending shivers down her body, “…but it’s kind of close. And I can look into your eyes the whole time, which is a plus for me.”

“My eyes do it for you?” Anya asked, a sliver of sarcasm masking her surprise.

“Oh, you don’t even know.” With that, Raven bent her head down slightly to capture her lover’s lips with her own. This kiss wasn’t chaste in the slightest. It was soft and wet and toe-curling and arousing as hell.

“So,” Anya started when they parted, leaning their foreheads against each other, seeking each and every way of being as close to each other as possible. And after three weeks it seemed impossible to get close enough. “How are we going to do this, Miss I-have-a-plan? Coz I don’t really fancy looking like Khal Drogo being fucked by Daenerys.”

“You won’t be happy than that that’s exactly how we’re going to look. Only I’m not blond.”

“Thank God for that!”

“What, wouldn’t you like me with white-blond hair?” Raven asked teasingly, moving one of her hands into her hair, tousling them around a bit, so they looked messy and oh so sexy.

“I would like you even if you had no hair…”

“Sap,” the Hispanic woman commented, punching the dirty blonde softly into her upper arm.

“…but I’m happy you look the way you look. So hot…” Anya finished as if her girlfriend didn’t say anything, then she placed a soft, gentle kiss onto the pink lips in front of her.

What started as a chaste peck soon turned into a slow kiss when Raven moved her mouth against her girlfriend’s. That, however, didn’t last long. Raven nibbled at Anya’s lips until she got them opened and when their tongues met in a slow, yet wet and searing hot dance, they were done for. One of Anya’s hands moved into the silky brown hair, where her fingers curled around the strands and tugged softly, bringing a moan from her girlfriend, while the other hand traveled to the narrow hip, lifting the fabric of the old jersey to feast upon naked skin. Raven’s hands found purchase on the back of Anya’s head and neck, gently scratching the skin there. Her hips started moving, subtly at first, so that neither of them really noticed, but as the kiss got hotter and more passionate, so did the motions of the brunette’s pelvic.

And Anya’s own hips weren’t far behind.

A soft cry came from the mechanic when the bulge in the blonde’s boxers hit her pantie covered clit in _just the right way_. It was a quiet noise, yet it made Anya let out an answering grunt. God, she missed this.

Raven’s hand slid down from the neck it was just scratching, past the bra-clad breasts, giving one of them a gentle squeeze, before moving to the hem of the black boxers, just so she could tug at it. “Take that thing off or I swear I’ll tear every single one of those you have after I’m done with you.”

“Somebody’s impatient,” Anya smirked, but couldn’t agree more. She would tear all of her underwear herself if it meant she would be able to be this close to the brunette at all times.

“Well, if _somebody_ didn’t leave me alone with these pregnancy hormones that make me super horn-ah!” the accusation that was about to be placed was turned into a cry of pleasure when Anya’s hand touched her pussy as best as she could through the fabric and with so little space.

“I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”

If you later asked Anya how she was able to pull her boxers off, she wouldn’t tell you, seeing as she didn’t have that knowledge herself. She just knew they were somehow pulled off and then thrown into exile somewhere to the floor. They were offending and useless, anyways.

In a short moment that followed, everything was sill and silent, the only exception being Anya’s cock that now stood proudly in between their bodies, twitching and ready for action, the vein on the underside of it pulsing in time with the blonde’s heart-beat. Anya watched her girlfriend’s eyes, just to make sure that this was okay, that they were really doing this. But Raven’s eyes were glued to the length that stood in between them, begging for her attention.

Then her eyes, those amazing eyes that radiated warmth and sweetness of hot chocolate, lifted up to meet Anya’s own. They were dark, almost black, half-lidded, glazed over with want and desire, pupils dilated, their stare scorching. And the blonde’s hips gave and involuntary jerk at that stare, because, oh god, she could cum just from staring into those eyes.

In a frenzy, two pair of hands worked as quickly as they could to get rid of any offending article of clothing that covered the bodies they so desperately needed to touch. Anya’s old jersey _(that was now Raven’s favorite thing to wear at night, because she wasn’t too hot nor cold in it, not because it showed how much of a fine stud Anya was, or because it made her feel close to the blonde and safe or anything)_ quickly found itself in the same exile as Anya’s boxers _(probably, since neither of them knew where it ended, though it might have been on the windowsill for all they cared)_ , and the blonde’s bra quickly followed. Only when desperate hands reached the hem of simple black panties did they find a problem. There was no way to get those off without getting Raven off, and Anya would rather die in that moment that to let Raven get off of her. So she did the only thing that seemed logical in her desire-clouded mind – she ripped them off.

Raven let out a moan and bit her lower lip, her eyes sending the look of a burning want her lover’s way.

They were there. Finally, they were at the point where their bodies would join so intimately for the first time in what felt like forever. And suddenly, Anya didn’t feel as desperate as she had just seconds ago. Well, she did, but she didn’t want this to be a fuck, just something to take the edge off, something to make up with her lover for how she’s been acting.

No. 

This was something else. Something more. Something intimate and emotional and it was _theirs_.

It was Anya voluntarily giving up her wildness and accepting the saddle on her back, the symbol of her being tamed that came with commitment. It was her promise of faithfulness and love to Raven only.

And so Anya placed both of her hands on Raven’s cheeks, holding her face in the perfect position to look in her eyes or kiss her senseless, whatever she chose. For now, it was the former. Raven’s eyes, though, seemed unable to settle on one point. Her stare was jumping in between her lover’s eyes, lips and cock, as if they wanted to look at all of those at once.

“Rae. Raven, baby, look at me,” Anya asked, her voice quiet and soft, something that was definitely a rarity with the tough dirty blonde. When her girlfriend’s eyes finally settled on her own, she continued: “I want- I want you to look me in the eyes. I want to see your eyes when I- oh God- when I get inside you.”

Raven, even though her face was still held by her lover’s hands, nodded frantically, before leaning in and planting a hot kiss on the lips in front of her. She then started moving her hips again, slowly sensually, brushing her clit against the throbbing length, drawing wanton moans and sighs from both of them.

Hands roamed freely, feeling the other’s body, not able to get enough.  Lips never parted, eyes stayed closed, enjoying the feeling of hot closeness that settled in between them. It was a short moment of anticipation they allowed themselves to reveal in before the real pleasure would come.

Raven lifted her hips and lowered her hand to position the head of her lover’s shaft against her entrance. It was time.

Their kiss ended slowly. They leaned back slightly, only centimeters separating their lips so that they would be able to look into the other’s eyes. To confirm they were both ready. To make sure they both wanted it just as the other did.

And then Raven slid down. Slowly. Taking inch after glorious inch of her lover’s cock into her, stretching herself, splitting herself open on it. And with each of those inches, a sigh of pleasure came out of both women’s mouth.

Anya’s hands on Raven’s cheeks. Raven’s hands on Anya’s neck and jaws. Their bodies joined in the most primal, intimate way there was. They didn’t need to move, not just yet. For now, they were happy to enjoy the other’s closeness, the stretch and the tightness. They needed a moment to enjoy each other.

It was Anya who broke the silence filled with comfort and pleasure around them.

“Raven…” it came out as a whispered prayer, a word of worship meant for some sort of deity.

“What?” came a breathy question from the brunette.

“I-I just wanted to say your name.”

“Say it again.” It was a request, made by that raspy, breathy voice. A request that couldn’t just go unanswered.

“Raven. Raven, Raven, Raven, Rave…” Anya kept repeating the name until her lover decided this was the best time to start moving. It was only a small movement, a circle of her hips, but it made Anya go _deeper_ and both of them shuddered at the feeling. “Ah, Raven…”

The movements were slow. Gentle. Just a rhythmical rocking. But with one of Raven’s hands wrapped around her lover’s neck, the other now gently kneading on the blonde’s breast and the way her clit brushed against Anya’s pelvic bone on every forward motion while having one of Anya’s hot hands scratch down her back and the other between their bodies, pinching her nipple, it made the brunette sigh and moan and grit her teeth in pleasure.

Their breasts and bellies touched with their movements. Their breaths melted together as they were released sharply in sounds of pleasure coming out of both of them. The pleasure hot in their veins, mixing with the feeling of content and happiness at this closeness, this intimacy, this connection made their muscles spasm with the foretelling of orgasms that didn’t seem to take too long. Whether it was because of the unwanted celibacy or the knowledge they loved each other, or mix of those two, neither knew.

Anya soon started moving her hips in the rhythm already set. And her first movement got her a sharp intake of breath, eyes fluttering closed and curling of fingers into a tight fist in her hair. Usually, Anya loved having her girlfriend scream and moan and yell where, how and what she wanted. But now, now the silence between them seemed enough. No, not just enough, it seemed almost necessary. Screams of ecstasy that Anya usually enjoyed hearing so much would only spoil the moment of soft love they were having.

Even without words Anya knew she was in the perfect position to hit just the _right spot_ inside of Raven, and she made it her mission to do so at every inward stroke. And according to how Raven started shaking in her hands, how her hips lost their rhythm, how she was gripping at Anya’s hair and breast and how her breaths came out irregularly, she accomplished it.

Brown eyes were staring into hers as the soft, pink lips started forming and repeating a word instead of just pants and sighs. It took a short moment for Anya’s pleasure-clouded mind to make that word out, though.

_“Anya.”_

That was the word the soft pink lips were forming with every single movement of their hips. It sounded like a prayer, a plea. It sounded like liquid pleasure.

Raven was close. And Anya wasn’t far behind.   

They came. Together. Silently, with only open-mouthed gasps accompanying the waves of pleasure rushing through them. Hazel eyes never left brown ones. And that moment, that silent, powerful moment when they were both at their most vulnerable, when the pleasure was almost incomprehensible, when the only thing that existed were the two of them, that was the moment of the greatest intimacy and love either of them had ever felt.

They came down from ecstasy together, Raven still shaking slightly and Anya still releasing small spurts of herself deep into her lover. A kiss was placed on one of their lips, but neither cared who initiated it. It was slow, soft, loving, carrying everything that needed to be said. And when it ended, they pressed their foreheads together, neither willing to move from the position they were in.

“I love you.” It was a whisper into the stillness of the room. It was everything that needed to be said at that moment.

“I love you,” Raven answered by repeating the words, a happy smile spreading on her lips.

Then Anya kissed her, for what seemed like hours without stopping.

Only a few hours later, when they were comfortably laying in their bed, both naked and sweaty and tired and pleasantly sore did Anya voice something that had been on her mind since that morning.

“I’m really surprised you took it so well when I told you about last night.”

Raven only smiled and curled into her side, placing her head on Anya’s chest _(because, as she declared earlier in their relationship, there was no better pillow than Anya’s breasts)_.

“If I hadn’t heard you cry it to my belly at night, I probably would’ve killed you this morning.”

There was a short silence as Anya stared dumbstruck into the ceiling. Then she looked down at Raven’s _(so beautiful)_ face.

“You what?”

“Oh, c’mon, you dork, did you really think I would tell you I loved you first?”

“Err, yea!”

“Well, too bad. I only said those three little words because I heard you say them last night,” the brunette shrugged and closed her eyes, “Oh, and you owe me twenty bucks.”

“What for?”

That made Raven lift her head and look mischievously into her girlfriend’s eyes.

“You did bet with me that I would say it first. And I didn’t.”

Anya hated loosing. She hated being vulnerable and dependent, she hated self-pity and arrogance that wasn’t her own. Just like she hated loosing. Yet, here she was, with an imaginary saddle on her back that she _allowed_ Raven to place there and with what was supposed to be long forgotten bet that she seemingly lost. And she was happy with both.

“Best lost twenty bucks ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it. If you want to see more of my work, say so in comments or just by giving kudos to this little thing in here. It was fun writing and a pleasure to read all your thoughts!  
> Be good you dirty sinners!


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